Amaterasu's Child
by Kimarya
Summary: She's Amaterasu's Child, the Chosen One who visits Her wrath upon all she wishes. And she's hopeless broken inside. T for possibly future content.


AN: So I don't know where I'm going with this story. It just popped into my head as I was listening to "Sailor Moon's Death Song" (I'd YouTube it, very sad). If you have an idea of where I should take this, please talk to me about it in your review! I don't have a pairing in mind (but I can tell you Inuyasha just ain't gonna happen). So please, if you have ideas, let me know.

**Amaterasu's Child**

Blood was ever omnipresent when she lifted her hooded eyes to peer at the scene around her. It stained the ground, her hands, her clothes and her lips. Red lips, opening slightly to breathe out as she attempted to reconcile herself to what was before her. A tongue darted out, licking those lips, tasting the sweet, yet acrid tang of blood. They remained red, her lips flushed from the fading adrenaline and excitement.

Why, why was she so eager? The view horrified her, yet all she could feel was eagerness, and a slight pang of worry beneath it all of what had been done. Her eyes flitted downwards and she stared at her hands. Red, more red. Her hands were stained. One hand gripped a wakizashi, dripping with blood, the hilt slick beneath her fingers. She adjusted her grip, wiping her left palm that held nothing on her hakamas. They were red too. The fabric hadn't originally been red, but they were stained to be so, with the blood almost literally poured over her.

She stumbled forwards, almost tripping over a severed arm. She stepped over it, gazing at the arm considering the circumstances. Yes, it had to have been done. They had wronged her! They had wronged the people and others! IT WAS THEIR FATE TO DIE!

She paused, the heatedness of those thoughts making her literally stumble over something this time. A woman. She looked down again, and dismissed it. She was associated with them. She would only have helped them to further their evil ends. It was not **her** fault that she had chosen to stand with these… villains. Yes, it had been that woman's choice. Not hers. It was not her fault. No, not at all.

Small feet reached the edge of the small river, slow in this area. Undressing, she tossed her clothes into the water, scrubbing ferociously at them. No taint! None! She couldn't have any at all! Pure, she must be pure… She was a chosen one of Amaterasu. Her haori came out of the water, snowy-white. She dunked and scrubbed at her hakamas next, pulling out more snowy-white fabric, yet somewhat darker drenched in water. She hung them up to dry, stepping into the cold river herself next.

Her skin was raw and red when she was done, yet beautifully clean. Yes, clean. Clean was like being pure. You must show your inward-heart to others, and you must always be clean. Her hair stuck to her cheek and she pulled at it, feeling it wet and slick. Fingers, stained crimson darkened her eyes and she frowned. Clean, yes. She must clean and scrub her hair. And so she did, scrubbed and scrubbed until her hair was shining in its pitch dark waves.

The wakizashi was next, taking great pains to clean the abnormally white steel delicately. You must always take care of your steel. Yes, she was taught that. Take care of it, and so it will take care of you. Redressing, she stepped purposefully towards the field again, to retrieve her armor. She was a vision of pure snowy-white, soft cotton. Her sword, strapped to her back in its sheathe was pitch black in sheath and hilt, looking stark against her white clothing with the only relief being the Baltic-blue tassels hanging from the pommel, her pitch black hair hanging loose to dry around her shoulders.

Picking up her black armor, trimmed in Baltic-blue like her wakizashi's tassels, she took it back to the river, scrubbing and cleaning delicately. Not a hint of blood remained anywhere. She would not be dirty! It was strapped on, providing stark-black relief to the never-ending white clothing that made her almost difficult to look at.

Yes. She was Amaterasu's Child. She was the Chosen One to visit her wrath upon those who had offended Her. She was Kagome, Battle Miko of Amaterasu, the Guardian of the Shikon Jewel.

And she was hopelessly broken inside.


End file.
